


Growing Up

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deputy Jordan Parrish, High School, Human, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Romance, Surfing, Teenage Testosterone/Hormones, Teenagers, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A slow process of growing and bonding, committing. There is no such thing as instant gratification, and one must nurture each new relationship. Or something like that.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 10





	1. Down by The Shore (Everything is all right)

Stiles stares listlessly at the ceiling, eyes aimed at the fan as it runs its endless cycle. At times, he fools himself into believing that he could see each blade as the fan turns. He blames it all on his lack of sleep.

Not a single wink of blissful sleep all night.

Every now and then he listens to the light pitter-patter of the rain hitting against the glass of his window. A dull tune that reminds him that he hasn’t slept all night. 

Which sucks because he has to be up in a few and knows that running on fumes is bad. 

_Real bad._

He sighs, a heavy sound in his ears, as he turns to look out his window, out into horizon. The Californian skies were painted a muted monochrome. Stiles knits his brows together. He always thought that California was supposed to sunny and bright, not dull and gray like this. Ever since they moved into town, it's been raining nonstop.

Stiles closes his eyes and sighs once more. 

They had moved five times this year. John, his dad, had promised him that this will be the last time they move, but Stiles, being who he is, didn't believe him. He simply smiled and nodded, telling his dad that he understands. 

Which he does, really. He knows these moves are all work related.

But still, he's tired of them.

Just as sleep begins lull him into its sweet embrace, Stiles hears a soft sound from the other side of the room. 

The teen looks over to the bed across from his and sees Zach, his older brother, fast asleep on his stomach, sheets tangled up around his feet, and soft snores escaping his parted lips. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he hears Zach mumble something under his breath and kick the sheets off his feet.

A lot of people say that he and Zach look alike, which is true, Stiles won't deny that. But there are some notable differences between the two. 

For one, unlike Stiles' lanky build, Zach's all muscle and a bit taller than him, not by much though. There are no moles dotting along his brother's face like his; except for a scar that paints Zach’s face starting from his chin up to his mid right cheek. That and his brother isn't as paled skin as him, a warm honey tan contrasting to Stiles. The only other difference is their hair styles: Zach donning a fohawk, while Stiles a buzz-cut.

Stiles exhales slowly through his nose and looks over to the bright blue neon numbers sitting on his nightstand. 

It read 5:55a.m.

 _Might as well get up_ he thinks.

Stiles sits up and swings his legs over the side of his bed. He stands up slowly and lazily marches towards the box labeled: _Stiles' stuff. Anything belonging to Zach that has somehow ended up in here (Yes, I'm talking about you, bro.) will be burned or shredded. Keep out._

Yeah, he's cool like that.

It'll teach his brother not to hide his stuff in his belongings ever again.

You'd be surprised by the amount of stuff Zach hides in Stiles' drawers from time to time.

Like the day he found a box of condoms— _the uber kind_ —in his drawer.

Their dad sat down with Stiles after he found the box and had _the talk_. He told Stiles how he's proud that he is planning to take safe sex seriously. But then his dad asked if he was also planning to be the one pitching or catching.

Stiles sat up and left the room after those words escaped his dad's mouth. 

Zach still laughs about that night to this date.

_The fucker._

After rummaging through the box, Stiles pulls out a pair of faded jeans, his favorite graphic tee, and a dark purple hoodie. He throws them over his shoulder and stalks out of his room, and makes his way into the kitchen. 

It doesn't surprise him to see his dad already sitting at the table, with a steamy cup of coffee sitting on its glass surface.

John looks up from the newspaper in his hands when he hears soft footsteps approaching and smiles fondly. 

"Morning, Stiles. You're up early."

Stiles stops in his tracks and stares at his dad, John Stilinski, loving father, best friend, and hero. He still finds it amazing that his dad had raised him and Zach all by himself. It must have taken his dad a lot of courage to tell the both of them that their mom wasn't coming home ever. Their dad really didn't say where she went when they'd ask. Instead, he'd just tell them that they'll understand once they are older. 

And they did.

Once Stiles turned eleven and Zach twelve, they understood what their dad meant.

Their mom lost the battle against cancer.

"Stiles?"

Stiles blinks, snapping back from his thoughts. He sees that the smile on his dad's face was replaced by a worried frown. 

Stiles mentally kicks himself. "Yeah, I just...couldn't sleep anymore, you know?" he lies smoothly.

"I see..." John says, and Stiles knows that his dad isn't fully convinced, judging by the tone of his voice. "Well, do you want some breakfast?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'm actually gonna go take a shower." He gestures at the clothes on his shoulders. His dad frowns.

"Are you okay, Stiles?" John asks, concern lacing his voice. He finds it odd that Stiles didn't want breakfast, and truthfully, he's getting worried. He knows that these moves affect Stiles more than they affect Zach. "You can talk to me about anything, you know that."

There's a beat of silence before Stiles sighs and begins.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just nervous, you know?" He decides to go with the truth because he doesn't like to see his old man worry about him.

John's expression softens and he smiles fondly at his son, as he stands up and walks over to Stiles, clapping a warm hand down on his shoulder. "You'll be fine, Genim. I did promise you that this was going to be our _last_ move, right?"

His dad's tone carries so much conviction, that Stiles finds it hard not to believe him.

Perhaps his dad is telling the truth. After all, he did use his real name.

His dad never uses his name unless he's being serious about something.

Stiles forces a small smile and heads towards the bathroom. 

There's an upside of moving from city to city—it was that he'd see new places and meet new people. But when it came down to the friends that he made on the schools he and Zach attended, Stiles is tired of trying to keep in contact with them, and trying to make new ones, too.

Not that they even try to contact him. 

Sucks for them, he's _awesome_. 

But, really, Stiles hopes that this is the last move. He really, really hopes that it is. 

The moment he steps inside the small bathroom, the teen strips down and steps inside the shower. Shortly after he turns the knob on, his pale skin is greeted by a stream of cold water, a few seconds later Stiles hears the door open and a gruff grunt following after.

"Morning, bro." 

"Morning, Zach," Stiles replies, lathering shampoo on his hair.

He hears Zach release a very satisfied noise a few seconds later and cringes. This is why they need another bathroom. There is only one bathroom in their new home. Not really convenient for three people that roughly get up at the same time. 

Zach had left the bathroom by the time Stiles was done with his shower. 

The teen closes and locks the door in hopes to prevent Zach from stepping in once more. 

Not that the two of them know the meaning of knocking before entering. They just walk right in whenever either of them is taking a shower or changing. 

Stiles dries off and changes into the pieces of clothing that he had picked out earlier, and turns to the mirror.

"It's just a new school. No one knows, no need to freak out. Zach always has my back. If anyone gives me shit, all I have to do is get Zach. He'll beat the crap out of them," Stiles mutters at his reflection. 

He repeats those words a few more times and then runs a hand through his short hair. 

He sighs and nods. 

_Fuck it_ , he's inwardly freaking out.

Just as he opens the door, Zach bumps into him hard. The younger teen stumbles back on his feet but a firm hand on his wrist saves him from falling flat on his ass.

"Shit," Stiles breathes out and looks up at his brother. Zach's eyes are still clouded with sleep, but beneath that cloud is Zach's keep-baby-brother-from-falling-on-his-ass mode. 

"Stiles, you okay?" Zach asks sleepily, and then adds as he releases his grip on Stiles' wrist. "You done with the shower?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," he replies as he steps aside and bows gracefully, making room for his brother. "All yours."

A heavy yawn escapes Zach's lips as he ruffles the short strands of Stiles' hair. Stiles playful bats the offending hand off and smiles brightly at Zach.

"I'm really tired of moving, Stiles," Zach informs him as he steps inside the bathroom and closes the door.

Stiles chuckles lightly. Perhaps he and Zach share the same mutual feeling about their moving every now and then lifestyle. He runs his hand through his hair again and begins to make his way back towards the kitchen.

"Made you some breakfast," John informs him as he sits down on the table.

A plate of scrambled eggs is placed in front of him and a glass of orange juice is set on the side. Stiles stares at both items and looks up to see his dad crossing his arms and pressing his lips into a thin line.

"I'm not hearing it, Stiles; you're eating something before you leave to school." 

Stiles stares back at his food and laughs softly, "Thanks, Dad."

He proceeds to take a sip of his juice before attacking the eggs in front of him. 

His dad is seriously getting better at this, a few months ago Stiles wasn't even sure if he could call his dad's scrambled eggs edible. 

He never told his dad that he'd often find egg shells in his eggs. 

He knows that it'll probably destroy his dad's whole father esteem if Stiles outright tells him now. 

"Whoa, slow down, Stiles." John chuckles as he looks down at his watch. Stiles watches as his dad's lips part in a silent sigh. "I'm off. You and Zach have fun at your new school. And please tell your brother. No fighting." He warns.

"Mmnf," Stiles nods vigorously and waves bye to his dad.

He promises _nothing_. 

If some unfortunate soul just happens to mess with him, Stiles is not responsible for the ass whooping Zach will _descend_ upon them. 

Even then, his dad will just tell Zach he did a good job defending him. If you ask him, his dad is contradicting himself.

He wolfs down the rest of his breakfast and looks over to Zach's plate. 

"Damn, why does he _always_ get bacon and I don't?" He leans over and stabs his fork through three strips of bacon. Stiles eats the strips quickly, so by the time Zach's done with his shower, there wouldn't be any evidence that he was the one who took the strips.

"Dad left already?" Zach asks, as he walks up to Stiles, still drying his hair off. He glances down at his plate and sits down with a plop.

"Yeah, he left not too long ago."

Zach _'hmm's'_ in response and begins to eat his breakfast. Stiles watches him with mock disgust and successfully dodges the bits of bacon that Zach throws at him.

"You'll be okay, Sty," he hears Zach say as his brother bites down on his last strip.

His brother's mute gray eyes study his honey eyes and offers him a fond smile.

"Yeah," Stiles nods and swallows hard. "I'll wait for you out on the porch." 

He finishes off his orange juice in one greedy gulp and slowly rises up from his seat, taking his dirty plate and cup, and places them in the sink to be washed after school.

He makes a quick run for his backpack and heads out onto the porch. 

"Huh," Stiles says. "It's stopped raining."

The rain had probably subsided by the time he was done with his shower and his breakfast. There were puddles and small pools of rain water all over the walk way.

"I thought it wasn't supposed to rain in Cali," he sighs, eyeing the still gray skies. 

"It rains everywhere, Stiles, just not as much here." 

"Right," Stiles turns slightly enough to look at his brother locking the door behind him. He frowns when he notices the way Zach's shirt hugs his chest.

So not fair.

It wasn't his fault he can't build muscles like _that_.

He had even spent six months working out with Zach and nothing. Sure he got cut, but still, six months is a long time to get back.

He turns back around and stares at the puddles like they've done him wrong.

"Ready to go, little bro?" 

A ball of nervousness drops in his stomach, making his breaths come in quick and shallow. Stiles takes in deep, relaxing breaths just like his dad had taught him to do, for whenever he feels anxious or nervous. 

He nods a few seconds later, but deep down he isn't even sure if he is ready. "I guess so," was his weak reply.

Zach smiles fondly at him, the same smile that he graces Stiles with whenever they're ready to tackle a new school, and throws an arm around Stiles' shoulder, bringing his baby brother closer to him.

And with that, Stiles feels one hundred times better.

Like, seriously, Zach? Best bro ever.

"Don't be nervous, Stiles," he says, leading them across the puddled walk way and towards his car. "You'll be fine and if anyone gives you shit, they'll have to answer to me." 

"Just like—"

"Yeah, just like that one guy that called you a fairy back in Arizona."

Stiles laughs out loud to that. He hears Zach snicker a little until it grows into laughter.

Let's just say that guy will never call anyone a fairy after what Zach did to him. 

"Now, c'mon, don't want to be late for our first day, right?" Zach unlocks his 2008 Onyx Ford Mustang and slide in the driver's seat.

Cons of having Zach as your brother: The man gets a sports car for his sixteenth birthday. 

And what did Stiles get for his sixteenth birthday?

A fucking _shirt_. A really nice shirt, but that's not the point.

But on the bright side, his dad did promise him a car for his eighteenth birthday.

He's keeping his dad to that promise. There's no way John Stilinski can back out of that one now.

The younger teen nods and slides in the passenger side. They buckle up, turn the radio on blast, and speed off the driveway.

Stiles tries to control his nervous breathing as the street signs, houses, and other cars fleet by as they make their way towards their new school.

***

Stiles feels uneasy as he looks around the packed gymnasium with wide eyes and resists the urge to reach out and hold Zach's hand.

He's stopped doing this as he got older, but, right now, he desperately wants to.

Zach must have sensed this, because his brother pats him on the shoulder and whispers softly in his ear.

"Want to hold my hand, Sty?"

The fucker has the nerve to ask.

Zach laughs when he bats his hand off his shoulder.

"Guess we have to sit with our specific grade," Zach says, eyeing the banners that say: 12th, 11th and so forth. He looks over at Stiles once more, noticing that his brother seems paler than before. "You think you're going to be okay?"

"Uh...I think so," Stiles lies. 

He's so _not_ going to be okay.

Zach gives him a reassuring smile and jogs off to sit with the seniors in the gymnasium. 

Stiles looks at the juniors and swallows hard. 

"I can do this," he mutters over and over under his breath.

The bleacher's steps shake slightly as he walks up and sits down next to a girl, a brunette. 

He briefly thinks about introducing himself, but the girl seems to be in a world of her own, with her earphones plugged in and her right foot tapping out the beat of whatever song she's listening to.

And knowing him, he'd ramble on and on. It is safe to say that Stiles is lucky she's paying him no attention. 

Wouldn't want to make the wrong impression, right?

"All right, quiet down." A poised female voice echoes over a microphone, gathering the student body's attention.

He looks down to the center of the gym to see a black haired woman in a red business suit standing in front of the microphone.

"My name is Valeria Burnwood; I'm your Vice principal here."

A few wolf whistle ripples through the student body. 

"For those who are new here or for those who need a little reminder, I give this speech once and once only!"

The vice principal went on and on about the dress code, discipline, and many other _exciting_ things. 

Stiles tried his best— _really, he did_ —to listen and pay attention, but his mind started to wander off in the middle of the discipline part of the Vice principal's speech. 

He sighs, feeling as if weights were being pressed against his lungs as he expels hot breath, and turns to look at his schedule and study the school map provided on the back of the schedule.

A tingling sensation starts to run and down his spine.

"Fuck," he mutters. 

This school is three stories. 

Some of his old schools were one story high and several other buildings. Two at best. But never three.

Okay, now he doesn't know if he'll be okay with his new school.

"They didn't renovate the school, you know. It's still the same," and Stiles absolutely does not yelp in surprise.

He doesn't. No matter how sweet and friendly the voice was.

He sees the way some of the other juniors look at him.

_Fuck._

He totally yelped. There's no denying it now.

Stiles turns his attention to his right and sees the earphones girl talking to him.

She looks completely sheepish, a nice rosy red painting her cheeks and the tip of her ears.

 _At least she has the decency to look embarrassed_ he thinks.

It takes him a minute to compose himself from his initial reaction and stammers out. 

"Well... I'm kind of new here..." And that was a weak reply, Stiles can feel his cheeks heating up, and wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

Because, really, admitting that he is new to McEarphones here, is pretty embarrassing. 

It wouldn't be so much, if, you know, he hadn't yelped.

But hey, what can you do?

"I noticed," she replies, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Just thought that I should point out that the layout is still the same is all."

"Uh... right..."

She laughs, a lighthearted sound in Stiles’ ears, as she flips her hair over her shoulders. "My name's Allison Argent. What's yours?"

"Stiles. Stiles Stilinski," He smiles at her, with the smiles Zach dubs as 'Stilinski Men Charm'.

"Well, Stiles, nice to meet you." Allison smiles back and Stiles thinks that maybe, just maybe. He's made his very first friend in Cali.

"Likewise," Stiles looks over to the senior's side of the bleachers. He silently groans when his eyes land on Zach, talking and laughing with a group of seniors. 

The unfairness. 

He makes one friend and Zach has the senior class eating at the palm of his hand.

Not cool.

"Soo," Allison drawls, tossing her earphones over her neck and follows Stiles' gaze. "See anyone interesting yet?"

Stiles quickly glances at her and answers, "Besides you? No."

"Well, if you see anyone, point them out and I'll see if I know a thing or two about them."

"Okay. Thanks, Allison." Stiles grins. 

He can feel it. He and Allison are totally going to be bros. Or bffs? Whichever the term is. That's what they're going to be.

"No problem, Stiles." Allison smiles sweetly at him.

"Okay! That's all!" Ms. Burnwood announces. "Enjoy your new school year and get to class!"

Groans and swears swim through the airwaves and echo throughout the gymnasium as the student body starts to disperse. Stiles smiles.

Lucky for him his first period just happens to be gym. That means he does not have to go anywhere.

He knits his brows together when he notices that Allison doesn't get up either.

"You have gym, too?" Stiles asks, looking at the remaining students in the room.

Mostly freshmen through juniors and some seniors.

"Yeah..." Allison says, her voice dull like she doesn't want to do gym first hour.

"Not an athletic type? Stiles asks, taking his eyes off the other students in favor to look at Allison, who's already plugging in one ear bud.

"It's not that... just that Finstock makes us do some crazy stuff," Allison shrugs one shoulder. 

"Crazy...stuff?" 

"Yeah, you don't even want to know."

Oh, but he does.

"Likeee?" Stiles drawls, batting his lashes at her. 

"You'll see," she says, rising up from her seat. "Come on, I'll show you to the locker rooms."

The moment both teens reach the last step, a floppy haired brunet runs to a stop in front of them, chest heaving and pulls out an inhaler from his pocket, taking a shot from it.

Floppy hair looks up and flashes Allison a wide smile. "Hey, Allison. What's up?"

Also, insert Floppy hair's puppy eyes.

Stiles nearly coos— _nearly_ —because, seriously. Floppy hair looks like he's mastered the art of puppy—

"Get lost, Scott." Allison promptly replies, her tone ice cold.

And damn. The poor dude got shot down.

"Ouch. Why do you hate me so much?" Scott laughs bitterly, but still keeps the wide smile on his face. He then nods at Stiles. "Who's the new kid?"

"His name is Stiles," Allison turns to look at him and flourishes a hand at Scott. "And this is Scott McCall. I would ignore him if I were you. He likes to think he's cool."

Stiles laughs softly and sees that Scott is scowling at him and Allison.

"Don't hang around Allison or you'll get dragged into her clique!" Scott warns Stiles.

"See?" Allison sighs and shakes her head, taking a hold of Stiles' hand as she leads them away from the floppy haired teen, and onto the locker rooms.

"I think he likes you," Stiles smirks.

He saw the way Scott looked at Allison. 

The big puppy eyes, the bright smile, and even the way the boy was talking to Allison. And let's not forget how he completely ignored Stiles at first.

_Dick._

But anyways, it was the same way most of the rom-coms he watches—with the occasional Zach—start off.

Boy wants girl. Girl hates boy's guts and plays hard to get. Hilarity ensues and boy gets girl in the end. 

"Yeah, no. I think he likes to annoy me," Allison replies, but Stiles can see the way she fights the urge to smile.

The locker rooms smell awful. 

Like if someone had _died_ in there.

Well, just the boy's. Stiles doesn't know about the girl's locker rooms.

They probably smell like sunshine and rainbows.

Allison points to the glassed-in office. There were three teachers talking loudly inside.

"Be ready before those three leave their office or suffer hell."

He nods and he parts with Allison to their respective locker rooms. 

Scott was busy telling crude jokes over at the boy's locker room, but Stiles changed quickly that he didn't really hear much. 

He walks out into the gym and notices Allison and a few other students already standing or sitting on the bleachers.

"Scott being an idiot and telling his sex jokes, right?" Allison asks half amused, and Stiles snickers a little. 

"So, Scott could have been heard in the girl's locker room?"

Allison nods in response.

"I think he was. I wasn't really paying much attention to him, though," Stiles answers honestly, and if Allison's reaction is anything to go by...

The girl looks _pleased_ with him.

"Ah! Finally! Someone with common sense and maturity!" Allison raises her hands in the air and looks skywards, as if she is thanking the beings of higher power for Stiles.

Stiles nearly— _nearly_ —says that women don't really interest him that way, but he kept his mouth shut. Zach got into fights defending him in his old schools because of this. And he secretly decided that he'd keep this a secret in Cali so Zach wouldn't have to fight again.

More students start filing out of the locker rooms and out into the gym.

Allison sighs, a heavy and dull sound, and begins to make her way towards the bleachers.

"So, you athletic?" She asks, looking up and down Stiles' lanky frame.

"Yeah, I play lacrosse. Well, sometimes, but I still play, and you? You think the coaches make you do crazy stuff, right?"

"Yeah," Allison scrunches her nose and then smiles at Stiles, all teeth. "I consider myself more of the sidelines kind of life. But hey! It's nice to know you play something."

Stiles laughs and shakes his head.

So far, Allison seems to be his only friend here, not that he's complaining, she's awesome. 

Well, then there's Scott, but he still doesn't know why Allison says to be wary of him.

The rain had picked up again so today's class was held inside the gym. Some students were playing volleyball while others ran back and forth in the gym, burning their energy.

"Hey, Allison. What's new?" Scott smirks at her as he runs up to them.

Puppy eyes comes back for round two.

"How about? Oh, I don't know. Go away." Allison grimaces, glancing over at Stiles. "Stay away from him. Got that?"

Scott frowns at that and looks at Stiles. "Hey! Want to play a little game of soccer with me and the guys?"

And _damn it_.

Scott was using his puppy eyes on him.

"Well..." Stiles trails off. How could he say no to that? 

He looks over at Allison, who nods in approval. "Sure, let's play!"

Scott's face brightens up at those words and claps his shoulders, "All right! You're in my team, Stiles," he informs him, before running off towards his friends, informing them that Stiles is going to play with them.

"Yep. He likes you," Stiles smirks as he stands up.

"He definitely likes to annoy me," Allison replies, but her words are more fond than annoyed. She smiles at him and thrusts her chin at the group of impatient teens. "I think they're waiting for you. Now go, I'll cheer you on from here."

Stiles nods and dashes away towards Scott and his friends.

***

By the time lunch rolls around, Stiles is actually feeling pretty good about his new school. Allison is only in his first period and he didn't really make any other friends after that. But his teachers are nice if that counts.

The growl from his stomach reminds him that it's lunch.

He briefly wonders about Zach's day as he makes his way towards the cafeteria.

Knowing his brother, Zach's probably the new 'cool' guy of the senior class, getting the popular crowd's numbers, and even trying to get some.

And just like that, it doesn't surprise him to see his brother sitting and talking with a table full of seniors and some juniors. 

Seriously, at times he's jealous of Zach's ability to make friends with ease.

Zach must have seen him walk, because his brother's face lit up like Christmas lights.

"There's my little bro!" Zach gestures him to come closer, a bright smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Stiles rolls his eyes but walks up over to Zach anyways. His brother introduces him to everyone at the table. 

Some greet him while others just simply stare at him, like if they were comparing him with Zach. Stiles hears one of them mutter something along the lines of: "Is that twig really his brother?"

He sees the way Zach glares at the dude who said that, and resists the urge to laugh when the guy shuts his mouth with a snap.

Best brother ever.

Stiles returns the greeting to those that introduced themselves, and stares down at those who were staring at him.

"So, how do you like it here?" Zach asks, as he untangles himself from the arms of one of the girls sitting next to him. "No one's giving you any trouble, right?" His tone turns from upbeat into serious in a heartbeat.

As much as he wants to say the dude who called him a twig, Stiles shakes his head.

"No, no trouble at all. Actually, I think I like it here."

Zach hums in thought and then smiles a few seconds later. "Good. You have lunch money, right?" He asks as he pulls his wallet out and hands him a $10 bill.

"I do, Zach," Stiles says, handing the bill back and watches as his brother places the bill back in his wallet and expertly shoves it back in his back pocket.

"Oh okay. Then enjoy your lunch, bro." Zach turns back into the conversation with the table and leaves Stiles standing there, looking out of place.

Stiles is definitely not planning to replace the content of Zach's protein shakes with powdered chili, for this act of un-brotherly love.

He's not.

Okay maybe he is.

Stiles sighs and turns on his heels.

Just as he approaches the lunch line, a hand comes out of his left field and snatches his wrist.

And hello _killer grip_.

"That's your brother?" his attacker asks, and Stiles does a double take. 

Attacker's voice is sweet. Too sweet to be one who attacks lanky guys.

He whirls around and comes face-to-face with a smiling Allison.

His face softens and nods, "Yeah."

"Older?" Allison asks, as she stares at Zach flirting with the girl across from him, eyes calculating.

"Mhmm."

"You hungry?"

That's definitely a trick question. Stiles nods.

"Well, you can't eat here. Come on."

Allison's grip loosens slightly and takes a hold of his hand and leads them out the double doors.

She points at the strip mall across the school and says, "There's a place there that sells the best pizzas, fries and all the other good stuff."

Stiles nods and lets Allison drag him across the street.

Now that he thinks about it, Stiles knows nothing about Allison. All he knows is that she's awesome, and has a killer grip.

And Stiles secretly thinks she's Wonder Woman. 

Seriously, that grip. It was numbing his hand.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters, Allison?" Stiles asks, hoping to get enlighten with small talk.

"Nope." 

And damn, that was a fast reply.

The place Allison was talking about is a small fast food/take out restaurant filled with other high school students, some college students, and some regulars from what Stiles can pick up from their conversations with the guy at the register.

"Hey, Allison," One of the cooks grins at her.

"Hey, Oscar," Allison replies back with a small grin. "Give me a large slice of cheese pizza, please," she turns to look at Stiles. "What do you want, Stiles?"

"Uh, good question," he mutters as he glances through the menu. "I'll have the medium fries."

Just as he pulls out his wallet to pay for his lunch, like the gentleman that he is, Allison's killer hand swats his wallet to the floor. He gives her a critical look before bothering to pick it up.

"Lunch is on me today," Allison informs him with an unrepentant smile.

He stares at her a little longer and starts to feel the corner of his lips curve upwards. "Thanks."

"No prob."

Oscar made up their order and Allison, who now is Stiles' third favorite person in the world, pays for their food.

"See you around, Allison." Oscar waves at her.

"See you, O."

Allison hands Stiles his lunch as they leave the restaurant.

The walk back to the school was quiet. Once inside the school, they sat inside the gym and ate their lunch together, making small talk over the things they have in common.

***

After lunch the rest of the day seemed to fly by at a fast pace. Stiles made his towards his assigned locker and shoved his books in without a second thought.

He doesn't have homework anyways.

His mind begins to go over his first day here, and to his surprise, it wasn't that bad. 

Sure, a little boring towards the end, but not bad at all. 

The teen slams his locker closed and begins to venture out into the parking lot.

The first thing Stiles notices when he takes a step out the double doors, is that the sky is an open canvas. No rain clouds around and the sun shines bright.

"Hey bro!" Zach's too familiar voice breaks through the swarm of bodies exiting through the doors.

He waves and shouts back, "Hey!"

He winces when he sees Zach tackle a few freshmen out of the way, and tries not to laugh when he sees Zach help the girl he tackled down into a small puddle shortly after, apologizing like crazy.

"No homework?" Is the first thing out of Zach's mouth as he unlocks his car and slides in.

"Nope," Stiles replies, beaming at his brother when Zach makes a face.

"Lucky, I only have math." Zach pouts and looks over at Stiles. "Buckle up, Shorty." 

" _Sir!_ " Stiles salutes and does what he's told. Zach snickers.

"So, did you meet anyone today?" Stiles can hear the curiosity in Zach's voice as his brother backs out of the school's parking lot and speeds away.

"Yes, actually," Stiles nods. "I met a really nice girl named Allison."

"That's great, bro." Zach's eyes were still trained on the road, but Stiles can tell that his brother is swelling with pride for him, for making at least one friend day one.

"And I suppose you met the whole school?" Stiles already knows the answer, but he asks anyways.

Zach laughs and shakes his head, "Nah, only some."

" _Only some?_ " Stiles parrots, voice amused.

"Okay, so maybe half the senior class," Zach adds a beat later.

And there we have it ladies and gentleman, classy Zach Stilinski, friend maker 2000.

The drive is quiet afterwards, with Stiles occasionally breaking out into random songs and forcing Zach to sing along with him so he wouldn't feel like an idiot by himself.

"You know," Zach begins after he and Stiles finish singing _Feel Good Inc._ by _Gorillaz_. "I'm surprised I still remember the way home. I was afraid I might have forgotten this morning, but I'm glad I haven't."

"That's...good, Zach. Good job," Stiles laughs, somewhat relieved that Zach remembers where they live. He doesn't want Stiles to start having a panic attack now, does he?

After another ten minute drive, Zach eases to a stop in the drive way of their new home. He looks to his right and smiles.

"We should go surfing, Stiles," he says as turns to look at Stiles, with bright eyes and pleading smile.

Stiles cranes his neck a bit and stares off into the distance through the window.

The beach is right there, water gleaming with promise of awesome waves.

"I'm up for it," Stiles says, grinning back at his brother after seeing the ocean.

It's been awhile since they've surfed. After all, the last three cities they've lived in where nowhere near the ocean.

Surfing to them is more of a bonding thing they do, maybe a pastime. It isn't as serious to Zach as his football, but it is Stiles' favorite hobby.

It also helps them unwind after a long day.

"All right, Stiles. Let's go!"

***

After checking to see how well their boards had survived the trip, the two brothers went inside to change. They had to search each box of clothes before they finally found their surf gear. 

Both Stilinski's made sure to make a quick snack, nothing too heavy because they're going to be in the water most of the time, but nothing too light either. They change, grabbed their boards, grabbed their gear, and went outside to strap their boards on top of Zach's car.

"Small house, but nice beach by the corner," Zach states with a smile as he wraps the ropes tight.

Stiles studies the small house carefully and nods in agreement. 

Their new home wasn't as big as the one they had back in Seattle, but it's still something, albeit small.

"By the way, Stiles," Zach grunts out as he tugs at the ropes, to make sure that the boards do not get loose and cause a major accident.

Stiles brings a hand up and tries to smother a laugh that's threatening to spill from his lips, as he watches Zach climb up onto the Mustang's roof.

It happened  _ once _ .

Back in Florida earlier this year.

Zach forgot to properly tie the boards, and the moment they set off on the highway, both boards flew loose, causing several cars to swerve out of the road.

Luckily no one was hurt.

Stiles also knows that he shouldn't be laughing about the incident, but the look of Zach's face when he saw the cars swerving.

_ Priceless. _

But still, no one was hurt. That's all that counts.

"Were you listening to me?" Zach asks as he jumps down from the roof and lands on his feet with a soft thud.

"Hmm? What?" 

Zach rolls his eyes at him, and Stiles swears that Zach's eyes are going to roll out of their sockets.

"I said I hope you don't mind that some of the varsity football guys are going to be down by the beach. I received a last minute text not too long ago."

And this is just another instance where Stiles admires his brother's ease for making friends. Although, he is shy, annoying, and a babbling machine at times, there are things about his brother that he wants to follow after.

The muscles are a no since he tried and that didn't quite work out.

But the ease to forge friendships is the number one thing on Stiles' list at the moment.

"Yeah, okay, that sounds all right," Stiles' voice was small. He's a little uneasy with the sudden change of plans.

At his last high school, it was mostly the football players who gave him a hard time because of his sexuality. He was even sure one of them was hitting on him and then using that as fuel for his bullying.

But Stiles doesn't care. That was the past.

Zach's voice tells him to get his ass in the car, and Stiles blinks out of his reverie and slides in quickly.

"It'll be fine," he hears Zach say once he buckles up and turns to look at his brother. Zach has his eyes trained forward and then turns to look at him, mute gray eyes boring deep into his own. 

"Stiles, you know I always have your back. Always will. Trust me on this one, okay? He says as he pats a rough hand on his shoulder and gives him his trademark reassuring smile.

"Yeah, I got you." Stiles says, still not fully convinced, but, this was Cali. Things will be different.

And, so far, California's been treating him well.

"Care to tell me about the guys we're meeting?" Stiles asks casually as Zach pulls out of the drive way.

He hopes that Zach doesn't pick up on the nervousness in his voice.

"Well, we're meeting two of them, Derek and Jordan. Derek's quite ripped. He's real quiet and thoughtful, but nice when you get him to talk. Jordan's a little smaller but just as built as a bull, and he's pretty laid back. Nice guys the two of 'em."

Stiles makes a noise at the back of his throat, and Zach laughs out loud.

He was going for a noise of acknowledgement, but the noise that came instead is that of a dying horse.

_ A dying horse _ .

Stiles drowns out his brother's guffaw as he slams his head against the glass of the window.

Fuck his life.

With a  _ dildo _ . 

"Stiles, Stiles, do that noise again," Zach can barely restrain the laugh in his voice as he says this.

"No, Zach. I only sound like a dying animal once a year. Come back around this time next year." Stiles deadpans, earning another round of Zach's laughter.

Choosing to ignore his brother once more, a bright smile begins to shine its way onto his face once Stiles sees the sand and ocean come around the bend.

The ocean water gleams bright and the waves promise him an awesome time as they rise and fall, the crescents of each wave crashing down on the shores, and Stiles is just ready to hit the water.

Like, if he could, he'd just run the rest of the way instead of listening to his brother laugh like a hyena. 

But he can't, his board is tied up on the roof. 

There are a few girls sunbathing down at the shore and there's a guy surfing in the water, but that is it. No other surfers, swimmers, or just plain sunbathers. The beach is quiet and empty.

And Stiles hopes it stays that way even on the weekends.

Just imagine, his own personal beach, and by his house, too.

A surfer's dream.

Both brothers wince in sympathy as they watch the guy surfing wipe out terribly.

"Noob?" Zach asks, coming down from his laughing fit.

"Noob," Stiles agrees.

"Looks like they're already here," Zach informs, looking at a black Camaro with two surfboards strapped on the roof of the car.

Stiles follows Zach's gaze out the window and sees the car and the two guys Zach was talking about earlier.

Scratch that, he sees a miniature Hulk and a broody slash handsome model. 

Though brandsome—broody and handsome—looks like he was forced to come down to the beach by the Tiny Hulk, if his scowl and frown of death are anything to go by.

As they ease to a stop a few spots away from the other two, Stiles takes a good look at the two older teens, leaving the silly nicknames aside, for the moment.

He'll need them back until he learns their name.

Stiles starts with the smaller of the duo first.

Short chestnut hair, perfect smile, light scruff,  _ awesome _ muscles, slight tan, rugged features, and he seems to carry an air about him that makes you want to be his friend.

Stiles gasps in realization and turns sharply to look at Zach, eyes narrow and critical.

Why didn't he see it earlier, it is so freaking obvious.

His brother raises an eyebrow at him and Stiles says, voice hushed and accusing.

"I know your fucking  _ secret _ ."

Zach simply makes a face that screams "I don't even want to know what you're thinking," as he steps out of the car.

Stiles rolls his eyes dramatically, not that Zach's looking and follows suit, turning his attention to broody and handsome now.

Raven black hair, sharp cheekbones, awesome stubble—he finds this extremely sexy—and pale green eyes. There's something about brandsome that draws him in.

And Stiles can't take his eyes off brandsome. 

Because this guy is seriously hot.

Even his dick agrees with him.

Tiny H isn't bad looking, but brandsome takes the cake.

Zach must have sensed this, because he pats Stiles on the shoulder and whispers in his ear, "Keep your dick in check Stiles. I can see your little guy popping a tent through your wetsuit."

And Stiles mentally maims his brother for that comment.

The smaller of the two approaches them, a smile curving the corners of his lips. "Hey, Zach! Glad you made it!"

Stiles thinks that this must be Jordan.

The younger Stilinski shifts his eyes from Zach to his friend and back to his brother again.

Stiles then takes his eyes off Zach once he and the other begin to talk about god knows what, and turns them in favor to look at brandsome, who's staring back at him, his face blank.

Tiny H laughs, looks at brandsome and then nudges him with his elbow, snapping brandsome out of his reverie.

"Hey Zach," brandsome mumbles, his voice tight and gruff.

_ Wow, a real talker, _ Stiles thinks.

"Hey, guys. Oh by the way, hope you don't mind that I brought my little brother along," Zach throws an arm around Stiles' shoulders and gives him a gentle shake. "This is Stiles."

Tiny H extends his hand with a bright smile and says as Stiles shakes it, "I'm Jordan, nice to meet you, Stiles."

"Likewise," Stiles smiles back and nods, turning to the other teen.

And brandsome is still staring at him, almost transfixed.

"And this is Derek," Jordan says and elbows him again, a little harder than last time, from the way Derek winces and rubs his side.

"Hey, I'm Derek," he grumbles and scowls at Jordan, as if the other one had pulled him away from his train of thoughts.

And just like that, the two of them enter some kind of stare off, because Derek can't seem to take his eyes off of him, and Stiles can't seem to take his eyes off of Derek.

And there's something in Derek's eyes that he simply can't quite put his finger on.

Annoyance maybe?

Without taking his eyes off Stiles, Derek extends his hand. Stiles nervously takes a step forward to shake it.

The pure strength and grip of Derek's large hand nearly crushes Stiles' smaller paw.

He takes it back.

Derek's killer grip beats Allison, making him number one on Stiles' hands of death list.

"Ahh...shit," Stiles winces, shaking his hand in the air rapidly, to ease the pain.

"Shit...I-I'm sorry," Derek takes a step back, tearing his eyes away from Stiles.

Derek's definitely staring at him. But why? The guy looks straight to Stiles.

Or maybe he's bi and checking him out.

Yeah right. 

Maybe?

But Stiles can't tell.

"It's all right," Stiles assures him, favoring to look at his brother and Jordan.

Zach and Jordan are still talking about God knows what and Derek's back to staring at him again.

_ Zach for the love of god, this guy looks like he wants to eat me, _ Stiles thinks.  _ Keep it cool, Stiles. He's just being...friendly? _

Derek's not just staring at him, Stiles is now pretty sure the older teen is checking him out.

Maybe.

Or he likes to think that Derek is, because Stiles can pretty much get on that. 

_All_ _of that._

His brother and Jordan keep on talking, and Derek just simply stares at him, and this is starting to make Stiles uneasy.

He unties his board off the roof of the Mustang. 

Because Stiles needs to get in the water now, to shake off the feeling forming in his chest, and to clear his mind from running in circles around the idea of jumping on Derek.

With Zach here and his friend getting the front row seat.

And that would be bad, because Stiles just met the guy and he's thinking about having explicit things with him already.

"Last one in is..."  _ Oh what the hell am I saying. _

Stiles feels his dick twitch the moment Derek graces him a crooked smile.

Which, _not_ _cool_ bro.

Boners and wetsuits don't mix well.

Stiles doesn't remember if Zach or the others say something the moment he takes off in a full sprint towards the cool water.

"Whoa! Right behind you!" He hears Zach's excited yelling behind him and knows that the other two will follow in tow.

***

For the next two hours, the four of them laughed and rode the waves where the riptide was strong. The waves were excellent, cresting at the right moment. Every time Stiles caught good waves the others would laugh or shout encouragements. 

Once the waves have died down a little, Stiles finds himself paddling up next to Zach.

"I'm starting to like this," he says, sitting up on his board, eyes trained off into the vast horizon.

"Yeah? Me too," Zach smiles.

In a way, Stiles is glad that he has Zach for a brother.

He knows that brothers are supposed to have each other’s back, but he also knows that there are some that are complete dicks to one another.

And Stiles is glad that Zach isn't one of those brothers. It makes the past and whatever is heading his way, that easier to get through.

"Your friends are cool, too. I guess," Stiles says, turning to look at his brother and smiles.

Stiles knows that Zach's been waiting to hear his approval over his friends. 

Whenever Zach meets new people, he always waits for Stiles' word of approval.

Even though Zach's the older one, Stiles feels like his brothers is no older than eight, always asking for his permission.

Zach's lips curl into a bright smile and thrusts his chin into the distance the moment his eyes catch a good wave, "Heads up!" He shouts as he takes off in an instant.

Stiles watches Zach as he rides out the wave, sitting there, floating on the gentle surf for a good minute.

"So, when did you guys move here?" and Stiles does not squeak and nearly fall off his board.

If the gruff laugh tells him anything.

It's that the world hates him-- this makes it twice in one day. 

"Sorry, I mean..." Stiles composes himself and looks over to see Derek's built torso sitting up on his board. 

The chest, the abs, and not to mention the rest of the package glistening wet in display.

And Stiles can't help but stare.

"Uh, just last week," he replies nervously, eyeing the way Derek nods and stares off in Zach's direction.

"I see. Well, glad you guys are here," Derek says a beat later, and then adds, "Zach told us that you play lacrosse, and that you're pretty fast."

"Yeah. I mean, I've been playing lacrosse for five years, man. But my true calling is surfing," Stiles admits, blushing slightly.

He hopes that Derek won't notice it.

Derek looks him over again, taking in Stiles' toned and slender frame glowing in the afternoon sun.

_ There's that stare again, _ Stiles thinks as he floats on the surf.

"You ever think about joining a football team?" and... Stiles was not expecting that question.

Like, it totally came out of the left field. 

But the look on Derek's face tells Stiles that the other teen is serious about his question.

"Uh, no? Football's not really my thing, dude."

Derek simply looks Stiles over for a few more beats of silence, their boards bobbing with the lax surf. "You should think about it," he starts and paddles closer to Stiles' board, bringing down a warm hand on his shoulder.

And Stiles tries not to shudder at the touch. 

He tries, really.

"We could really use you," Derek's face is serious for a second and then softens, gracing him with a perfect smile.

That has Stiles turning beat red instantly, and Derek can see this, because the other teen is paddling back to the shore, yelling over his shoulder, "See you back on the beach!" 

Stiles chokes on his words.

He chokes on his words, which is a first, because he usually has a litany of things to say. 

_ Damn. _

"Yeah!" is all he can muster up on the spot.

The ocean seems to have called it a day with the waves and Stiles thinks that he'll call it a day, too.

He can feel his back burning from all the sun he has soaked in. Not to mention his muscles are pretty sore and tired, too.

"I love Cali," he says under his breath as he makes it to the shore in record time and pads across the wet sand that's caking around his feet.

He notices that Zach and Derek are already packing up as they quietly talk amongst themselves.

Jordan is the last one out, face sun burned and a slight crest fallen look in his eyes. 

Stiles offers him a sympathetic smile.

He had seen the other wipe out terribly multiple times during their surfing session. 

"Hey, Stiles, you really caught good ones out there!" Jordan high fives him, and the easy going air about him comes back, kicking his surfing failures away. "Looks like Zach isn't the only athlete in the family."

It’s official, Jordan is his other bro, along with Allison. 

And Stiles also decided right there, that the next time they get together for another session, he's going to help Jordan out with some pointers.

"Ha yeah, thanks." 

"Hey, Stiles, why don't you help me put the board back?" Jordan asks as they both tread on the shore.

Derek and Zach must have noticed them, because the other two begin to jog their way.

"Hey, we're going to go to the Sand Shack and pick up some grub, you guys game?" Zach points at the small sub-bar by the beach's main entrance. 

Derek simply stands next to his brother, eyes trained on Stiles again, shifting them every so often between him and Jordan, who has a hand resting on Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles can't help but lock his eyes with Derek's the moment the older teen catches his.

And Stiles swears that he sees something in Derek's eyes, but simply can't put a finger on it. 

They must have stayed like that for a few minutes, because Zach's fingers snap him from his reverie.

"Earth to Stiles," Zach snaps his fingers again. "You there?"

"Yeah? Sorry...what?" Stiles shakes his head.

Yep, he got caught staring.

And by Zach of all people.

"We're going to get them for the road. Why don't you and Jordan load up, we'll be back pronto," Derek commands as he gestures Zach to follow him.

"C'mon Stiles," Jordan pats him on the back, leading him towards the Camaro.

After all was done, the four part ways.

Derek shakes Stiles' hand again. Instead of just a 'see you later' although this time it was gentler than before.

"And think about what I said," Derek says with a slight grin.

"Uh, sure, I'll think about it," is all Stiles replies, rushing to get inside Zach's car.

Stiles knows his brother is staring at him the moment he slides in the car, he can feel Zach's eyes dance with amusement from his seat. 

He doesn't even have to turn to face Zach to know that his brother has a smile to go with that amusement.

But Stiles does either way.

And yep, there's the smile and look in Zach's eyes.

"So, Stiles," Zach begins. Their sandwiches smell good, and Stiles didn't realize how hungry he was...or flustered for that matter. "That was fun, right?"

"Yeah...it was, thanks for letting me tag along," Stiles' eyes were focused on the sandwich bag, but he can see Zach nod from the corner of his eyes.

"Of course, bro," Zach replies. "Jordan seems chill. You can tell he's easy to get along with."

That Stiles can agree with. 

Jordan is pretty chill.

"Yeah, he's pretty cool," Stiles says, tilting his head and takes a whiff from the bag. The bacon seems to be calling out to him. "I like him."

"Derek's a bit quiet, but nice when you get him to talk. I didn't know this until Jordan told me, but he's the team's captain."

And Stiles didn't know that, too.

"Oh really?" Stiles says, somewhat amused. 

He's not really into all this football talk, but he makes the exception for Zach.

"Yeah," Zach nods, drumming a tune on the steering wheel. "I think we're going to like it here."

Stiles snorts.

He  _ already _ likes it here.

He got two awesome bros, a beach by his house, a private beach to be correct, unless it gets full during the weekends. And Stiles  _ thinks _ that he has a crush on the captain of his school's football team.

Stiles is not one to believe in the silly "love at first sight,” but there's this thing that he can't quite put his finger on with Derek.

"Did you like Derek?" Zach asks, giving Stiles a sideways glace, a sly smile curving the corner of his lips.

Stiles chokes on his spit. 

Because how dare Zach ask such question.

Stiles is really thinking about maiming Zach now.

But yes, Stiles does like Derek.

"He, uh, he seems cool," Stiles plays it cool, deciding not to reveal too much. 

Zach hums in response, "Well, cool, he was asking a few questions about you," he continues, unfazed by the sudden flail of limbs from Stiles, "I didn't know if you guys talked at all."

"Yeah we...yeah he's cool...awesome," and he's definitely turning flushed red.

He can feel his face warming up at the thought of Derek, and his stupid stubble, and abs, and chest, and he should stop before he pops another boner and there's no board around to help him hide it.

"Well, glad you liked him. He said he liked you, said you were a nice kid..." 

Stiles flails, because he needs Zach to shut the hell up now.

_ Seriously. _

"Man I'm hungry!" Stiles yells, a bit more forced than needed, but he needs Zach to change the subject as soon as possible.

And that's enough to make Zach stop mid-sentence and rub his stomach. "Huh? Oh, yeah me too. We'll be home in a minute."

Stiles expels a breath of relief and rests his head against the window.

The last thing he needs is his brother realizing that he's flustered over this guy, Derek.

California sure is different.

  
  
  



	2. Tryouts, Ice cream, and pool party.

“Shouldn’t you be, uh, paying attention to the tryouts, Stiles?”

“Hm? Oh, right, my bad.”

He looks up from his phone as his characters take a full-on direct hit from the boss he’s been battling against. 

_Well, shit._ There goes his entire party. 

Football tryouts were delayed a few days due to the rain. Slippery grass, mud, and all that jazz are something the school isn’t going to be liable for in case anyone _actually got seriously hurt_ during these.

All the football hopefuls begin to march into the field along with the coach and assistant coach. 

Allison—god bless her soul, Stiles didn’t know if she’d come with him after he asked her last minute during sixth period but is so happy she did—points out into the field. “Look at your brother go. He’s pretty fast.”

He follows her finger and sees Zach running warm up laps with the twenty or so bodies wearing black and silver jersey’s with their preferred numbers on the back. “He’s a total beast when he gets into the game. You’ve seen nothing yet.”

“Oh, I can see everything all right,” Allison says just as his brother finishes his lap, turns around and does something close to a _bend and snap._ “That ass. My god.”

Stiles drops his phone on the bleachers and gags a little. 

Cause dude. Not cool.

“Ugh, Allison, why?” 

Allison has the audacity to laugh, a true unrepentant laugh. “I’m sorry what do you want me to say? I’m just enjoying the view. You cannot tell me that is not a glorious ass.”

“The contents of my stomach metaphorically disagree with what you just said on every level imaginable.” Stiles picks up his phone from the bleachers where he dropped it and yikes. 

Light scratch marks already. Well, shit. And it was a new phone as well, not even a week old. 

He turns to look at her, face stern—or what he hopes conveys seriousness. “You’ve ruined my day, and I hate you.”

And Allison, just cheeky Allison, replies by smacking him in the forehead before huddling close to him, arms linking around his. “Oh, shut up. You know you love me.”

Which, he does. There’s no lie in that. 

He smiles as he watches Zach demolishes the trials and says, “You sound so sure of yourself.”

Stiles only gets pinched as a response. _Hard_. 

The tryouts go on for another forty or so minutes before the coaches blow their whistle signaling a twenty minute break before the last part of the trials. 

Zach jogs over to them, sweat clinging onto his shirt and smiling from ear to ear. “Hey you guys.”

“Kicking ass out there bro?” Stiles fist bumps his brother before he turns to Allison gesturing a hand. “Oh, hey this is Allison. She’s the Black Widow to my Hawkeye just as you are the Bucky to my Steve.”

Allison raises a brow and feigns being hurt before waving a hand. “Black Widow? Please, I’m more Psylocke than Black Widow.”

“Pfft. Please, you’d make a great Black Widow with that killer grip of yours.”

"Oh? That so? Come here Hawkeye I wanna give you a hug.”

Zach gets this look in his eyes as he sees them banter—one that Stiles can’t tell if it is full of mirth, exasperation or contemplation, or maybe all at once. “Nice to meet you Allison. I’m so happy this ankle-biter has a friend to show him the ropes here.”

And there it is. 

The nickname’s been dropped. 

Allison turns to look at him with a devious smile, a glint in her eye that does not bode well for Stiles. “Ankle-biter huh? Oh, I must know this story.”

“No.”

Zach laughs and wipes the sweat off his brow with his towel. “Oh I’d be happy to tell you.” 

“Don’t you have a tryout to get back to?” Stiles interrupts just as the whistle goes off.

He’s been saved. 

For now at least. 

His brother tosses him the used towel and begins to jog away, yelling. “Let’s get some ice cream after this!”

“Does that include me too!?” Allison yells back and practically jumps with excitement as Zach replies with a thumbs up. “He seems pretty cool.”

Stiles watches as his brother enters beast mode with a proud smile. “Yeah, he is.”

***

“Belgian chocolate.”

“No. We’re getting Napoleon.”

“Guy. Guys, calm down. We’re getting Pistachio ice cream and that’s final.”

The three of them find themselves in the ice cream aisle of the nearest _Trader Joe_ they could find.

“Clearly you want to get sent to Valhalla, eh, brother?” Zach takes up an offensive stance with his Napoleon ice cream in hand. 

“Dude, you need to lay off _Netflix_ ,” Stiles counters as he also too takes up an offensive stance with his choice of ice cream. 

Belgian chocolate is that best and he will fight tooth and nail against someone who says otherwise.

“I don’t know what we’re doing but clearly you two will live to regret the day you got in the way of me and my pistachio ice cream,” Allison joins the fray with a large tub of ice cream in both hands and then adds with a sly smile. “But then again, you two are gentlemen, and gentlemen always let ladies pick or go first.”

Both brothers look at each other then at Allison and back to each other. Sighing they both agree. “Fine.”

Suffice to say, Stiles finds the ice cream to be quite delicious when they begin to dig in. 

***

_A few days later..._

Stiles sighs, hot breath escaping his lips as he places the end tip of his pen in his mouth and gnaws on the plastic softly. He can't focus on his English assignment when Derek is still freshly painted on his mind after remembering the day on the beach. This wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't for the sole fact that the thought of Derek completely stops him from reading the story he was assigned to read and answer some critical thinking questions to, and at least remember story parts for oral discussion.

"Come on Beowulf. Help a bro out," he mutters pleadingly under his breath, eyes focused on words that aren't even drawing him in. The epic of Beowulf does not seem to do the trick. Stiles runs a hand across his face and releases a sharp sigh, exasperation heavy on his shoulders. 

He only met the guy not too long ago, damn it. His mind shouldn't be doing this to him, not so soon. 

He may be telling himself that, but Stiles really wants to see Derek again.

And Stiles means again as in on Derek's bed or his bed.

Naked.

And have Derek all over him.

And let Derek do things to him.

And have Derek in him.

The thought of skin on skin makes Stiles drop his pen on his spiral notebook and take in a quiet, shuddering breath. 

And… yeah, he needs to stop.

He definitely needs to stop think about having sex with a dude he met a couple days ago, because it's getting ridiculous.

But it's not Stiles' fault that the guy is the definition of alpha and sex on legs.

If he has to lock the door to his room and begin to beat off for the fifteenth time in the course of five days, Stiles is going to have serious problems trying to get it up in the future. 

If he gets some in the future, that is. 

Stiles deflates and decides that he'll do his homework later, when he can successfully concentrate and not think about Derek. 

Which Stiles knows it'll eventually happen again, once he starts reading about Beowulf and how he killed Grendel and all that again. But right now, he'll go check what his dad and brother are doing, just so that he can clear his head at the moment.

"God that feels good!" Every muscle in his body begins to stretch as he stands up. Several joints pop in the process and Stiles feels a fleet bliss from this. 

Sitting on his bed, crossed legged and hunching over his textbooks while doing his homework, was a bad idea to begin with.

Stiles will have to remember not to do that again when he comes back to finish off his homework. His ears catch a few grunts of pain, sounds of flesh being hit, and the occasional strings of swears spilling from Zach's mouth.

Stiles blinks in surprise, because he then hears his dad join Zach a beat later and he too, begins to add his own words to the fray. 

And that's when his curiosity gets the better of him and he begins to make his way towards the living room, with the intent to find out what those two are up to.

But to his surprise, both Zach and his dad are watching _UFC_.

He doesn't fight the urge to roll his eyes at the both of them. 

Stiles glances at the screen just in time to watch as one of the fighter receives a knee straight to the face. 

"Ouch," he winces, rubbing a hand across his face as he watches the blood dripping slowly along the wounded fighter's face. Stiles feels sorry for some of these fighter, having to sustain such injuries and whatnot.

Zach breaks his attention from the tv and looks back at Stiles, gracing him with a winning smile. 

"Sup, Stiles, you done with your homework?" He asks, turning his attention back to the tv. 

"No, not really," Stiles replies honestly, because, really, it was the truth. Derek seems to have occupied 70% of his head. He taps his right temple, "Too much in my mind."

That's when his dad brings up the remote and lowers the volume, causing Zach to grumble and sit closer to the tv. "Come, Stiles. Sit." John pats at the now empty seat next to him. "Talk with your old man."

Stiles looks at his dad intently and sighs.

"So," John starts after Stiles flops down onto the seat next to him. "How do you like California?"

Stiles knows that his dad is keeping the promise he had made to him in mind. He knows this, because his dad wouldn't be asking him this if he wasn't.

"So far I like it, Dad." Stiles offers a half smile. "The school's pretty fun and as progressive as this state is, I know not everyone is on board. But so far, no one’s given me trouble," he looks over at Zach when he hears his brother say, "Damn right, Stiles!" 

Stiles' smile grows wider at that.

John laughs, clapping a hand down on Stiles' shoulder, "I'm glad you like it here, son."

Stiles nods and glances at the tv, the wounded fighter is still going strong against his opponent.

And that's when an idea lights a bulb in Stiles' head. Maybe he should become a professional fighter, then people will finally show him some respect. And he'll learn awesome fighting techniques at the same time. It's basically a win-win.

Stiles grimaces a second later, because he knows that he'll just end up making a fool out of himself.

"So...Stiles," he hears his dad and turns to look at him. Stiles arches a brow when he sees that serious expression caressing his dad's features.

"Yes?" Stiles voices uncertainly.

"Met any cute boys at your school?" John's voice is stern at first, but it slowly loses that rough edge and turns into a light, airy chuckle.

"Dad!" Stiles exclaims, because he cannot believe his dad at the moment.

John laughs louder, wiping several stray tears with his thumb, and says a beat later, "I'm curious. It is my job to scare off any potential boyfriends...so... _have you?_ "

Stiles thinks that it's a little too late to wish for a different family. He simply scowls at his dad until he hears a soft, "Sorry."

"S'ok and maybe? I don’t know yet," Stiles' face blushes even harder as he admits this.

And the glint in his dad's eyes makes him want to take that back, because nothing good can come out of that.

John simply smiles fondly at Stiles and ruffles his hair, messing up the teen's short strands.

"Stop that," Stiles whines and quickly moves to sit on the floor with Zach.

But even the floor isn't safe from questions.

"It's _Derek_ , isn't it?" Stiles hears Zach whisper into his ear as his brother brings an arm around his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"Uh...no..." and Stiles can feel his face completely hot at this point.

Seriously, _his family_.

Zach, the dick that he is, laughs as he releases Stiles, "Right... he’s up in your alley. Totally your type."

Stiles bites down a comeback when he hears the phone go off. And in a way, he's never been more relieved about answering a phone call. It'll keep his brother and dad from tormenting him with questions.

He paces into the kitchen and picks up the phone from the hanger and answers it.

"Hello?" 

_"Hello...Stiles, right?"_

Stiles blinks once, surprise written in his face when he recognizes the caller's voice.

"Allison? How...how did you get my number?"

He doesn't remember giving it to Allison. 

Actually what kind of friend is he not giving Allison his number.

And if Stiles thought that she was some secret CIA recruit Allison just upgraded to Black Widow--for real this time, none of that Psylocke business, with her mysterious ability to find people's numbers. Namely him.

 _"Your brother,"_ Allison replies breezily.

Stiles takes two steps out of the kitchen and raises an eyebrow at his brother, who is fighting along with the tv.

"I see," and somehow, Zach giving away their number to anyone who asks doesn't surprise him.

And it should, because the last time Zach gave away their number, they received death threats and prank calls 24/7.

But it doesn't, because no one ever followed through with their threats whenever they call.

Well, to Stiles' knowledge, that is.

_"Oh and the school has a directory online, so I doubled checked the number on the school's site."_

Stiles rests an elbow on the counter, chin resting on the palm of the other. "I didn't know there was one."

Come to think about it, they still haven't set up their Wi-Fi up yet.

 _"Yeah, just log in the school's site and use your ID number and the password should be your birthday,"_ Allison replies, and then adds. _"Anyways, the reason I called is if you'd like to come to a party with me."_

"Allison, I'd love to, but it's a Monday," Stiles knows he must sound lame, "And is this party yours?"

_"No, it's one of my friend's, but I thought this would be a good chance to introduce you to everyone."_

"Huh," is all Stiles says.

That actually sounds beneficial for him in the friends department. 

But there is only one problem.

"I don't know, Allison," Stiles eyes his dad, who's now reading the newspaper. Thankfully he hasn't heard a single word of his conversation with Allison.

_"C'mon! We won't stay long. I promise."_

He tilts his head in thought. 

To stay home and be a good son. 

Or to go to a party.

His _first_ high school party, actually.

Stiles looks at his dad and Zach and back to his dad again, eyeing the way his dad's eyes droop and his breathing starting to come in evenly.

"Where do I meet you?"

A party won't hurt anyone, right? Actually, he can use the popularity boost.

_"Awesome! By the way, what's your address?"_

"Uh, I don't know it?"

He can tell Allison is trying to smother down a laugh on the other side of the line.

Stiles won't get mad her if she decides to use this piece of info against him in the future.

When it comes to directions and addresses, Stiles completely fails on memorizing them. It's just who he is. 

_"Ookay,"_ Allison says, laughter evident in her voice. _"Um, do you at least know a street or something?"_

"Well, I live in Eagle Ridge Dr. Does that help?" 

_"Yeah, it does. And sweet, I live a block away from you. Go north and turn right when you leave your street. Walk down to Cimarron St. And wait there. The party starts at ten, so...meet me around nine?"_

"Okay, sure thing, Allison. See you then."

_"Bye, Stiles."_

Stiles blinks and hurries to his room, missing the way Zach shoots him a look.

He's quite sure that his dad won't let him go. After all, it is a Monday. But Stiles already promised Allison that he is going with her. He hums, tapping a finger on his lips thoughtfully. 

That only left one option: bribing Zach to keep his mouth shut as he sneaks out, which shouldn't be too hard. 

"Stiles?" He whirls his head around and watches his brother walk in the room.

"Hey Zach," Stiles smiles as innocently as he can at his brother, "Just the person I wanted to see."

Zach shakes his head and crosses his arms, "Something I can do for you?" 

Stiles has to give it to Zach, his brother knows how he acts whenever he wants something.

"That was Allison on the phone," Stiles starts, clasping his hands together, eyes calculating Zach's response. If he's correct, Zach will roll his eyes right about now.

Zach rolls his eyes just like he predicted and makes a 'go on' gesture with his hand.

"And she wants me to go to a party with her..." Stiles trails off, looking at his brother with what he hopes are the best darn puppy eyes he can muster.

He knows that he's not as good as Scott. But he'll master it one day. Stiles just hopes that it’ll work on Zach.

The older teen grins and Stiles know that he has Zach's cooperation. "What time do you have to meet her, or is she coming to pick you up?"

"Nine and I'm going to meet her at Cimarron St," Stiles beams at Zach.

"I see," Zach nods and plops down on his bed. "Good. It's still early," he turns to face Stiles, eyes glinting with intent, "It gives you time to do my homework in exchange for my silence. Of course, you don't have to do it. But I would if I were you."

Zach has officially move down on Stiles' favorite's list. 

Allison is now a rank higher than Zach.

"You're the _worst_ brother, ever," Stiles groans and rolls his eyes, holding both of hands out for Zach's notebook and textbooks.

Stiles does not know why he puts up with the brute. 

But he'll do Zach's math homework so when the time comes, Stiles will have Zach's complete cooperation.

After a few minutes in of math questions, lightning tears through the skies, illuminating their room, and Stiles hears Zach whistles. 

"A storm's coming our way, better be careful on your way there, Stiles. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles replies offhandedly. He knits his brows a second later, because he has no idea what the question is asking him to find.

Stiles knows that math is the bane of Zach's existence, but some of these question are pretty easy. 

Except for a few like the one he's on.

"Fuck it," Stiles makes an educated guess and calls the math homework beaten.

"Just don't want you to catch a cold or something. So be careful, okay?" Zach repeats himself, tossing paper balls at Stiles' face.

"I will, now chill, bro." Stiles tosses his brother's books back to him, and pulls his iPod out in victory. He needs his tunes after tackling down pre-cal. 

The answer must have satisfied Zach, because his brother drops down on the floor and begins to do his nightly routine.

Push-ups and sit-ups.

Stiles simply rolls his eyes at him. "Muscle head," he murmurs as he plugs in one ear bud.

It was around seven when their dad pokes his head in and bids them good night.

"Kind of early for him to turn in for the night, don't you think?" Zach huffs as he finishes his set and begins to do his sets of sit-ups.

"Yeah," Stiles replies, looking at the clock on his nightstand. "Around 8:30, I'm going to start heading out. Okay?"

"All right," Zach huffs a reply.

Once the clock read 8:30, Stiles looks outside, taking in the partially cleared skies. The rain has subsided for now. And who knows when it'll decide to pick up again. He quickly changes into one of his band tees and a pair of jeans, the ones that highlight his ass. 

Or so Zach says.

"Well, I better go," Stiles informs his brother, who's on his respective bed, lying on his stomach, with sweat sheening his forehead and breaths coming in quick and ragged.

Zach's eyes droop slightly as he yawns out and burrows his face on his pillow, "Have fun, Stiles. I'll unlock the window in a bit."

"Thanks, Zach. You're the best, _really_." Stiles says in a soothing tone as he ruffles his brother's hair and then makes his way towards the window, props it open and hops out.

After making sure Stiles had left. Zach gets up, walks over to Stiles' bed and fixes the pillows so that it'd look like Stiles is still there, sleeping. He grabs Stiles' iPod off the nightstand and plugs in an ear bud and presses play.

He can't go to sleep yet. He still has a lot to do.

" _What the!?_ " Zach winces harshly, ripping the offending ear bud out brusquely.

The song can still be heard as the piece of plastic hits the floor with a quiet thud.

Zach rubs his temples in soothing circles as he stares at the iPod from hell on the floor.

"How is he _not_ deaf?"

***

It was around 9:25 when a slick silver 2009 Dodge Charger drives up and eases to a smooth stop in front of Stiles.

Stiles feels his jaw drop, "No... _fucking_ way..."

He means that in every sense of the expression.

Because, really. _No fucking way_.

At that moment the passenger's window slides down smoothly.

"Hey, Baby. How much is it for a quickie?" a familiar voice teases him from inside the car.

Stiles can feel the corners of his lip curl upwards, "Allison! Holy fuck!" he moves around the car, running a hand against the slick surface. "Nice car!"

Because this car is like, amazing. And Allison is amazing for having such a car. 

Correction, Allison is amazing for being his friend and having such a car.

Stiles sniffs with pride as he wipes imaginary tears off the corner of his eyes.

His Black Widow is awesome. 

Allison laughs as she unlocks Stiles' door, "Thanks. Come on, get in."

Stiles doesn't hesitate to slide in. Allison shoots him a look before laughing again as she shakes her head at him.

"What?"

"You haven't been to a high school party before, right?"

"Is it _that_ obvious?" Stiles blushes and lightly scratches the back of his neck. It's true, he won't deny that. He knows he is not the most popular guy in school. People tend to avoid him and favor to go straight to Zach if given the option.

_Which is always._

"Well, you're visibly shaking with excitement," Allison points out, and then chuckles as she adds, "But first times for everything, right?" She smiles at Stiles.

"Right," Stiles offers a smile back.

"Good. Now buckle up, fresh meat. You're in for quite a night."

As they drove up towards an area Allison likes to call "The Hills," Stiles can’t help but ask, "So...what's your friend's name? You know, the one throwing the party?"

"Danny Mahealani," Allison replies. "Total party animal, nice guy, manwhore and oh, filthy rich."

Stiles has to raise his brows at that. He's going to a rich guy's party. Sweet. 

"Oh..."

Allison quickly glances at Stiles, "I don't expect you to get high, because you know, high school parties. Don't you get any ideas; I have a gut feeling your brother might deck my pretty face if I do." 

"Zach and I got high once...never again," Stiles shudders at the memory.

The car comes into a rather brisk stop, causing Stiles to clutch onto his seatbelt for dear life as he shoots Allison a look, who in turn, simply stares at him, eyes wide and full of amusement.

"We got ourselves a badass," Allison teases with a small smile. "How did that work out for you?"

Stiles stays silent and shoots her a withering look.

But it doesn't affect Allison, because, you know, she's the Black Widow to his Hawkeye. Or something like that.

"Well," Stiles begins, clasping his hands together, feeling the way the tip of his ears begin to warm up. "My dad found me and Zach running naked through our front lawn back when we lived in Arizona," if the burst of laughter from Allison tells him anything, is that his friend is never going to let this go. She'll have it hanging over his head if he ever tries to embarrass her, "He said that we were screaming something about being on fire." Stiles blushes as he admits this, "After we came down, we vowed to never touch that shit again."

Allison has a hand over her mouth to drown down her laughter. She smiles and pats him on the head, "Good boy."

"Stop that," Stiles whines but can't help but blush harder. "Anyways, that was the first time we saw our dad completely pissed off."

"Uh oh."

Stiles stills remember the way their dad dragged them inside the house and began to yell their ears off. Saying how they were setting a bad example to the little kids that lived in the neighborhood and all that jazz.

He also remembers how Zach stared at their dad, eyes red and glazed over and puffy and a goofy smile on his lips and began to _grind_ on him.

Zach Stilinski grinded on John Stilinski. Naked.

Their Dad's expression was _priceless_.

Stiles wishes he was on his right mind to get everything on video, because it was that funny.

"Yep. Never piss off John Stilinski."

"I'll make sure to remember that," Allison grins as she starts to drive again.

As Allison stops at a red light, thunder rumbles through the skies.

"So is it true that it rains here a lot?" Stiles asks, eyeing the dark skies as it illuminates as a flash of lightning tears through.

Allison shakes her head. "No, however, it is true we get more thunderstorms than rainstorms."

The moment the lights turn green, Allison speeds off. Stiles grabs anything he can find to keep from dying if they crash. If Zach drives fast, Allison puts him to shame.

"Do you have a license?"

"I do, but Zach does all the driving."

"You know I’m amazed on how much you two look alike. Except, you know, he's sort of...a muscle head."

Stiles laughs at that because it's true. "Yeah, we get that a lot."

He notices them driving in into a secluded mansion after Allison punches in several numbers on a dial pad standing by the main entrance. White marble pillars adorn the front gates while a trail of rose bushes leads them further in. Most of the open space has been taken by cars—a ton of cars—as they approach the mansion. Paper lanterns hang from tree to tree, giving it that beach party ambience.

"I'm telling you, Stiles. The Mahealani's are filthy rich," Allison says again. "Danny's mom divorced his dad and remarried his stepdad, who's in the diamond business. Oh just a piece of info. Danny's dad is our principal, but Danny took on his stepdad's last name."

Stiles quirks a brow up and opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out, because he doesn't know how to reply to that. Instead, he clears his throat and asks, "Soo...does Danny go to our school?"

Allison makes a noise at the back of her throat, and Stiles takes it as a yes. 

"Yeah," she says a beat later, "But that's not all, Danny hates his dad, like, with a burning passion." 

"Why?" Stiles tilts his head in question.

"I don't know? Mom might have turned Danny against his dad?" Allison shrugs a shoulder as she parks in between two cars. She glances over at Stiles and offers a smile and asks as she gets out. "Ready?" 

Stiles nods and follows suit, feeling a ball of nervousness settling in his stomach as his foot crunches the wet grass underneath him. He can hear the heavy bass blasting away from inside the mansion. He swallows the hard lump in his throat and exhales a shaky breath.

"No one bites except me, Stiles. You have nothing to worry about," Allison teases, taking a hold of Stiles' hand and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

Stiles stares at the hand holding his and squeezes back, lips curling into a small smile. 

Allison is truly a God sent angel.

"All right, if you say so," Stiles laughs as he lets Allison lead him inside. 

The mansion is, as Stiles thought it'd be, packed with kids from his school. Most of which he's seen at the gymnasium the first day of school.

"Ah, good, I see a lot of the _popular_ crowd here already," Allison points at the nearest one. 

A curly haired teen. 

"That's Isaac Lahey. Danny's right hand man and total softie, and the quiet one next to him is Vernon Boyd, but we call him Boyd," her finger slides over to the stoic teen next to Isaac. "I wouldn't mess with him if I were you. I heard he's training with some big named UFC fighter, so yeah..." she warns Stiles. "No mess with him."

Stiles laughs and nods. Allison grins and leads him into another room.

There's a burly blond teen dominating two other teens on the pool table.

"The big guy is Jackson Whittemore. He's the captain of our wrestling team and Lacrosse team, how he splits his time between the two teams is a mystery to me. The ones getting destroyed by him are Carlos Martinez and Steve Stone. Potheads, stay away from them."

Allison then leads Stiles into the kitchen, only to find the host of the party making out with a couple of guys at the same time.

Stiles raises a brow at the sight in front of him. He swears that it looks like a scene to a low budget porn video. 

You know, the ones with the cheesy techno music.

"And that's Danny," Allison points at the teen surrounded by guys with an amused smirk. "With what seems like an orgy."

The guy, Danny, must have heard this, because he steps away from the crowd of guys and moves closer to Allison, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Glad you made it, Allison!"

Allison laughs as she pulls away, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Duh, Danny, of course I'd come to your party."

"And that's why you're my favorite," Danny says, leaning in to kiss Allison's cheek. "Scott should be here somewhere. Derek and Laura are here, too. I'm sure Laura would be thrilled to see you again."

The moment Stiles hears Derek's name his heart jumps a little in his chest. He wasn't expecting to see Derek here. 

But who is Laura?

"Who?" Stiles asks, eyes scanning around for Derek.

Who as in Laura, he clearly knows who Derek is.

Danny's eyes rake over Stiles' body as a predatory smile curves the corner of his lips. "Who's this stud?"

"New kid, his name is Stiles," Allison turns to Stiles and flourishes a hand at him as she introduces the two. "Keep your dick in your pants, Danny."

"Allison..." Danny growls as he nods at Stiles and Allison before leaving the kitchen. 

Allison chuckles to herself as she watches all of Danny's groupies follow him out of the kitchen. She marches up to the fridge and swings it open, asking. "Want a beer?"

"I guess one won't hurt," Stiles nods, and then adds as he catches the beer can being thrown at him, "Oh, and you totally cockblocked Danny, just saying."

"I know," Allison says, shrugging a shoulder and grabs a water bottle for herself.

Stiles stares at the can in his hand and the bottle in Allison's hand, and then stares at Allison with a brow up. 

" _I'm driving_ ," Allison answers his silent question.

Stiles smiles broadly, impressed by her maturity, "I'm impressed, ma'am."

Allison rolls her eyes at him, the ghost of a pleased smile tugging at her lips. "Don't let it get to your head. Next time I'm drinking and you're staying sober."

"Deal," Stiles laughs taking a swig of his beer.

 _Bad idea_.

Stiles nearly chokes on the bitter liquid when he catches a glimpse of Derek being dragged out of the mansion by a girl. 

A really good looking girl.

He didn't get a good look on whom the girl is, but that's clearly Derek being dragged out by the hand.

 _It must be that Laura girl_ , Stiles thinks.

"Stiles! Are you all right?" Allison moves to his aid, patting a hand on his back. "I know that this is your first party and all. But take it slow, I don't want to be held responsible for your death." 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Stiles' face burns with embarrassment. He takes in a deep breath and offers Allison a half grin when he sees the worried expression playing with her features.

"You sure?"

Stiles nods and takes another swig of his beer, feeling the way the cold, bitter liquid travels down his throat.

He needs the drink more than he thought.

"All right," Allison says as she takes Stiles' hand and leads them outside, out into the pool area.

To Stiles' surprise the whole pool area is enormous. There are two cascades raining down, hiding the grottos and about three Jacuzzis scattered about. The pool itself seems to go on forever, ending by a Cliffside cascade that flows down into the beach under them.

"Whoa," Stiles breathes out as Allison leads him further in into the pool area.

Stiles can't help but stare at the rest of the place.

Seriously, _Rich people_. 

"This pool is huge!" Stiles remarks as he takes yet another swig.

"Well, the Mahealani's love to exaggerate," Allison offers back.

Stiles wonders if it's possible to surf on Danny's pool. His eyes catch a wave generator by the grottos' entrances. And now the need to ask Danny if he can has clawed its way under his skin.

"Allison!" Both teens hear a desperate cry behind them.

Allison shakes her head and stifles a laugh with her free hand, "How can I forget about Erica?"

Stiles turns around and sees a blonde teen with a 'don't fuck with me' air about her. He swallows hard as Allison moves to her side and pulls her in a hug.

"Hey, Erica," Allison moves back to Stiles' side and links her arm though his, gesturing at Stiles. "Meet Stiles."

"Hey," Erica says hastily, and Stiles doesn't bother to reply. He simply nods his greeting. Erica turns to Allison, eyes wide and pleading. "So, you and me, we're writing songs for my band, right?"

Allison shoots Stiles an apologetic look before leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Think you can manage by yourself? I've been promising Erica I'd help her with her band, but something always comes up."

"Of course," Stiles smiles at the both of them. "You go and do your thing."

And with that both Allison and Erica left him to fend for himself. 

Stiles sighs and sits down on the nearest chair he can find. 

Derek was here, with a girl, a really pretty one too. Stiles tips his head back and lets the bitter substance wash down his throat.

Whatever, he can't be hung up on someone he barely even knows.

"Sup, Stiles!" a familiar voice pulls him out of his thoughts. Stiles' lips part in a half grin and stands up, marching over to the edge of the pool.

"Hey, Scott," Stiles kneels down next to the edge. The brunet swims up to him and fist bumps with him.

"Where's Allison?" Scott’s eyes are bright with optimism.

The look of pure hope on Scott's face makes Stiles wince inwardly, because Allison will never look at Scott that way. How can she? Allison thinks that Scott's the most annoying person on the planet. 

But Stiles knows that's all an act. 

He knows how this kind of things work, Stiles has seen enough rom-coms, so he knows the signs.

But nevertheless, Stiles points back at the mansion. "She's helping a friend write some songs." 

"Oh, you mean Erica?" Scott's face fell a little, but then adds with a puppy look. "Oh, well. Hey! Why don't you come in? The water feels great!"

Stiles stands up and studies the packed pool and grottos. There's no way that he wouldn't bump into anyone if he is to go in. But the look Scott's shooting him, he knows that he'll cave in, "Uh, sure, why not?" 

Stiles begins to strip down to his boxers and jumps in. 

But that did not prepare him for the sharp feeling attacking him as soon as he's submerged underwater.

The water is _freezing_ against his bare skin.

Stiles gasps greedily for air as he surfaces, splashing water at Scott's direction. "You _fucking_ lied! The water is freezing!”

The look on Scott's face says that he isn't sorry at all.

"Oh, then I must have been in the water for a while," Scott laughs as he begins to swim towards the grotto.

Stiles follows Scott towards the grotto, feeling the cold water raining down on him as he passes by the entrance.

"Stiles man! Come sit!" Scott pats the underwater bar stool next to him. "We're going to drink like there's no freaking tomorrow!"

Now, there are a few things running through Stiles' mind as he carefully plays back Scott's words.

It's a school night and he's out having a grand time. Would it really be wise to drink like a there's no tomorrow? Or restrain and be a good boy.

"C'mon, Stiles! A few drinks won't hurt!" Scott gives Stiles a reassuring smile that said: _maybe like drinking into a stupor few._

"Sure, why not! A few drinks won't hurt!" Stiles swims next to the other and sits down.

They begin with the light stuff and somehow escalate to a slew of four loko in less than ten minutes.

***

An hour later, Allison begins to look for Stiles. 

She had finished helping Erica write songs for her band and the other girl had gone home. 

Allison quirks an eyebrow up in question when she sees a nervous and drunk Scott approach her.

"Pls dun kill me," and Allison knows something is up the moment Scott drops to his knees, clutching his stomach as if he was about to give birth.

Allison fights the urge to roll her eyes at him. "What did you do?" She asks sternly.

"Well, you see...Stiles ish so drunk...drunker than me, he's completely wasted..." Scott's eyes widen in horror as he hears Allison crack her knuckles. "Holy shit! Please don't kill me!"

Allison leans down next to Scott and begins to caress the back of her hand against his still wet face and smiles, "I'm going to kill you...slowly and oh, so very painfully."

"You're so mean," Scott whimpers, "I am sorry!"

And she doesn't care if he's sorry.

"I was stupid enough to believe that Stiles wouldn't run into you. But guess I was wrong," Allison frowns. Scott's pretty drunk. She can only imagine how drunken Stiles is.

Allison stalks out into the pool area, only to find Danny and his crew drunkenly splash fighting against one another. Her eyes widen when she notices Stiles lying on the floor looking sick, scratch that, looking like he's about to _die_. She swiftly rushes to Stiles' side.

"How many drinks did you give him?" Allison asks Scott, who had been following her.

"Seven? No...maybe nine? Four loko and some other stuff. Strong stuff," Scott mumbles and falls unconscious on the wet floor. Danny and his crew see this and begin to laugh out loud.

"I am... wasted, Aly!" Stiles exclaims, pumping a fist in the air, making Danny and his gang do the same thing.

Allison sighs and shakes her head. "We should get you home," she grabs one of Stiles' arms and tries to lift him up. "How does that sound, Stiles?"

She's afraid of what Stiles' brother might do if he finds out she left Stiles to fend for himself and ended up getting drunk.

"Alllrighty!"

Allison sighs again and helps Stiles stand up. Her friend sways on his feet slightly and manages to remain standing. She mentally praises him for not falling flat on his ass like Scott. 

Allison throws an arm around Stiles' shoulder and begins to lead him towards her car. Stiles is still soaking wet.

"I'm sorry," she begins. "I hope your dad doesn't give you any trouble because of this."

"Because of whaaat?" Stiles asks with a goofy grin on his face.

Allison sighs heavily and buckles Stiles in once they make it to her car and speed off.

"What I mean is...that I'm sorry I left you alone and you...well, you ran into Scott, who I told you to avoid."

"S'ok, I had fun." Stiles hums happily to himself.

Allison laughs, " _Real fun_ , Stiles."

"Pull over. Going to be sick," Stiles says hastily, feeling the bile that he's been trying to hold down, surge its way up his throat.

Luckily they're just coming to a rest stop on a long winding road. 

Allison pulls over quickly and Stiles fumbles drunkenly with his seatbelt. His stomach lurched and churned again. 

Hard this time _._

The teen didn't manage to undo his seatbelt in time and opens the door with great urgency, leaning out as far as the belt allows him to go. 

While Stiles dry heaves, Allison reaches over and undoes the belt for him, wincing when Stiles falls forward out of the car and onto the asphalt, crawling on the street and throwing up.

She quickly undoes her belt and gets out of the car. Allison moves closer to Stiles and crouches down behind the teen, rubbing soothing circles on his back, humming a quiet tune as her friend continues to dry heave.

After a while, Allison notices that the heaving had stopped and feels Stiles' back resting against the palm of her hand.

"Empty?" She teases.

Stiles laughs shakily and nods, "Yep...still wasted, though."

"That you are. Let's get you home, how does that sound?"

"Sounds _awesome_."

On the drive back to Stiles' house, Allison is surprised that Stiles isn't the violent or get-up-in-your-face type of drunk. No, he is the giggly, silly type. 

"Should I help you in, Stiles?" Allison asks, easing to a stop in front of his house.

"Nah, I'll be fineee."

"You sure?"

"Positive!" Stiles offers her a goofy grin. "What time issit?"

"A little past midnight."

"Zach should be out cold."

Allison hums in thought at that, and then she asks again, "You sure you don't need help?"

"Positively positive," Stiles nods rapidly as he stumbles out of the car, "G'night my lovely Allison!"

"Okay, if you say so, and goodnight, Stiles," Allison replies with an airy chuckle. "Oh, make sure you get out of those clothes, okay?"

"Right!" and Stiles immediately begins to strip his clothes off in the middle of the streets.

" _Stiles!_ " Allison hisses, trying her best not to laugh out loud.

"Whaat?" 

"Just...just get inside," Allison is still holding the urge to laugh.

"Okay, see you then!"

***

Zach raises an eyebrow at his brother stumbling inside through the window. If Stiles thought he's being quiet, his brother is mistaken. He notices the dark stain marks on Stiles' shirt and does not want to know how those got there.

"Are you drunk?" Zach asks, taking in his brother's tipsy stance and the way he slurred at the desk chair to stop talking. 

"Me? Psh. No..."

"Yes. You are."

"I so am..." Stiles breaks into a laughing fit.

Zach places a hand on Stiles' mouth, successfully hushing him. "You don't want to wake up dad. He'll give us both hell if he finds you like this. Corrections, he'll give _me_ hell and you'll probably sleep through yours."

Stiles nods and calms down, "I'm wasted, brody."

"Yeah, I can tell. But why are you wet?" 

"Pool, grotto, Jacuzzi," Stiles replies quickly. "You know, the water works. Aw yeah, you know which ones I like."

“Ugh. Too much info, Stiles,” Zach looks him over and nods, "Let's get you out of those clothes and into dry ones and into bed. We have school tomorrow."

Stiles frowns at that, "Oh, yeah...that..."

Zach yanks Stiles' shirt off, causing the younger Stilinski to fall on his ass. "Man you're soaked!" He tosses the wet shirt onto their desk chair.

"I puked on the streets."

"That's nice," Zach tries his best to frown at his brother, but his face breaks into a small smile. "But I think I could have lived without knowing that."

Zach took off Stiles' shoes and socks off before undoing his brother's jeans and working them down his hips. "Ass up, Stiles or I'll never get your pants off you."

"Zach!" Stiles gasps, eyes wide. "How dirty! You'll have to buy me dinner first!" 

"You know, I don't have to do this."

"But you're doing it ‘cause you love me, right?" Stiles smirks and lifts himself up, allowing Zach to remove the damp piece of clothing.

Zach rolls his eyes dramatically, sighing a quiet, "Yes, as your older brother I'm forced to." He hangs the jeans on the chair as well and walks out into the hallway and comes back into his room with a towel, draping it over Stiles' head.

"Dry yourself."

"Okay, okay."

"And take your boxers off, too. I am not doing that."

Stiles does as he is told and places the wet boxers on the laundry hamper. Zach goes over to one of Stiles' drawers, pulling out a dry pair and tosses it at him.

"Put these on."

"Okay."

Stiles wrestles with the boxers for a few seconds, grumbling under his breath as Zach watches him with amusement. After Stiles manages to get his boxers on, Zach helps him stand up and helps him into a pair of pajama pants.

"Feeling better, Sty?" Zach asks, maneuvering his brothers towards his bed.

"Yeah," Stiles nods and yawns heavily as he adds, "Guess what I heard."

"What did you hear?"

"Allison says we look alike," Stiles beams at his brother. "Except you're older and a muscle head."

Zach smiles fondly at Stiles and ruffles his hair, eyes boring deep into his brother's. "Genim?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time I'm going with you."

"All right!" Stiles exclaims, "Derek was there, but he left early..."

And Zach doesn't miss the way Stiles' voice drops slightly at that. He simply shakes his head and thrusts his chin at the alarm. "Now, go to sleep. We have school tomorrow." 

He holds the covers up high until he's sure that Stiles has gotten onto his bed.

"School... sounds boring."

"Well, it is."

Stiles yawns and shifts on his bed, "Night, Zach."

Zach stares at him a few minutes longer, watching the way Stiles' chest rises and falls evenly.

"My brother... tonight he became a man!" Zach chuckles to himself.

Though he wonders how Stiles will deal with his hang over come morning. 

That he wants to see.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I started this story late 2013, and then one day boom: Laptop died. And this story was lost to the sands of time. Luckily a friend had the outline I wrote back in the day and now I'm back to finish this story. In my first draft of this story I had a lot of oc's since I based this fic on S1-S2, but now that the tv series is complete I can minimize that since I don't really like using oc's, aside Zach who is integral to the story and a future oc that will appear down the road. This is a slow build, like we talking SLOW. Since like the title state this is a slow process of bonding and committing to new relationships. Stiles is a horny boy so there will be thirsty scenes, lol. After all, Sterek is the end game. So with that in mind, I do hope you enjoy this new version of Growing Up.


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